


A Letter to Mickey

by Bartholemew



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Ian's in the army, Letters Home, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 14:00:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3572288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bartholemew/pseuds/Bartholemew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian wrote a few letters at West Point, but the torn up papers never made it back to Chicago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**The First Letter**

_Remember that time Kash pulled a gun on you, sent a bullet straight through your leg? I thought, for a second, that I might've lost you._

_The first time we fucked, I'd shown up for a gun. You handed it to me, after we'd finished. We were in a rush, messy and inexperienced, but it was the best thing I'd ever felt. I wonder if it was the same for you._

_Terry had me at gunpoint when you rolled over and fucked Svetlana three feet away- I don't think I'll ever scrub that one from my head._

_The point I'm trying to make is that I can't look at a gun without thinking of you, I can't even handle the sound. It's like I'm being thrown back in time, and suddenly you're there and we're fighting or we're fucking or we're doing both._

_There's a lot of guns at West Point, Mick._

_You left a bruise on my skin, the night you slammed me against the wall of that church. It's faded now, but I can't stop looking at it. Weirdly enough, it's the closest thing I've got to home._

_Everything's different now. I'm sore a lot of the time, and not in the way you used to make me feel. God, what I wouldn't give to feel that ache again._

_I'm tired, too._

_The kids here aren't like you, but there's this one guy who's got these bright blue eyes, and when he smile's, he squints, just like you did._

_I wish I could see your smile again._

_I wish you'd said more than, 'Don't.'_


	2. Chapter 2

**The second letter**

_When you said you were gunna off my dad, I was pissed. I think I'd kill Terry if I had the chance._

_My heart still races every time I pick up a gun and imagine his face instead of the target._

_Sometimes I picture your face, too, but it doesn't make the days go by any easier._

_Why didn't you fight for me, Mickey?_

_A punch to the jaw, that's what you fucking gave me. A nearly broken nose and a bloody fucking face._

_What makes it so hard for you to accept that someone gives a shit about you, huh?_

_Everyone here knows me as Gallagher. You were the only one who used to call me that._

_Sometimes I wanna tell them off, cause it doesn't sound right comin from anyone else, you know?_

_It didn't feel right when you wrapped your hand around Svetlana's and walked her down the aisle._

_Do you still think of me, or did you find someone else to sleep in your bed? I tell myself you haven't, cause when it gets real cold at night, I shut my eyes tight and pretend I'm back home with you. It's nice, until somethin' pulls me away._

_I'm starting to think I'm going crazy, Mick. There's days on end where it takes all I got just to roll out of my peice-of-shit cot. It's not always like that, but when I'm up, I don't even want to be here._

_I wonder if any of the other soldiers want to leave. But, they're basically robots- I don't know how they do it. All I wanna do is shove the end of my rifle so far up the colonels ass, there isn't a chance in hell he could tell me what to do._

_Four years is starting to sound like a really long time._


	3. Chapter 3

**The third letter**

I _can't stand it anymore._

_Your stupid voice haunts my fucking thoughts, like cancer or something. All I see is your face, sometimes it's on the wounded, but other times you're the guy coming at me._

_I'm constantly being told what to do here; I've got shit to say too, Mick._

_You know what I think?_

_You're fucking gay. There's no denying that shit. When I fucked you, you didn't just love it- you begged for it._

_You loved me._

_Why didn't you beg for me?_

_It's because you're a coward. Don't worry about it- So am I._

_West Point didn't fix anything, I hate living in this fucking tent. No matter how hard I try, I don't feel right here. I used to think I'd belong in the army, but I don't._

_When I'm really pissed off, I imagine stealing the helicopter, but I barely know how to fly it. It'd be great, though. Looking out the window, down at all those fuckers._

_I don't know where I'd go. Maybe we could sell weapons for money, I'd steal those too. Fly to Canada. Nah, fuck Canada. We'll just land it on an island somewhere, live in a hut made out of leaves or twigs or something._

_I'd do anything to get out of here at this point, and even more to see you again._

_You probably don't remember me, but we used to know each other._

_I'm Ian Gallagher._


End file.
